Harry Hortman was a 25-year old hack driver in
Cherokee, Iowa. On November 30, 1901, he shot and killed his
sweetheart as she tried to flee from his jealous rage. Perhaps
the victim, Florence Porter, had announced plans to end their
relationship. Perhaps Harry thought she was interested in another
man. Although his exact motive is unclear, the result was
indisputable. Hortman confronted Miss Porter with a borrowed .38
caliber Smith & Wesson revolver and, as she ran down a flight
of stairs trying to escape, Hortman shot her twice, in the back.
She died a week later, but not before forgiving her killer:
"I do forgive Harry, he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't
been drinking I forgive him as I hope to be forgiven."
Other witnesses testified that Hortman was sober and rational. In
the end, in didn't matter. Miss Porter was dead and justice
needed to be served.

Less than two months later Hortman stood
convicted of First Degree Murder. Judge G.W. Wakefield pronounced
that Hortman should hang for his crime. After sentence was
passed, Hortman fell to his knees before Louis Porter, father of
the slain woman, and begged his forgiveness, which Mr. Porter
eventually gave him.

In the end, Hortman escaped the gallows. He won
a new trial and, in 1904, his sentence was amended from death to
life imprisonment. He was returned to Anamosa where he remained
for the rest of his life.

Hortman was a model prisoner. He was known as
"Snapper" to inmates and staff alike. He had one
overriding passion in an otherwise drab and regimented existence.
He loved baseball. The prison eventually named their baseball team after
him (the "Snappers" were a
prison fixture for many years) and allowed him to control the
prison radio whenever the Chicago Cubs games were broadcast.
Snapper loved the Cubs, and impossibly dreamed of watching the
Cubs play in Wrigley Field.

In the fall of 1932 the Cubs were closing in on
the National League pennant. Hortman was now 56 years old, and in
failing health. One day, in the prison yard, Warden Charles
Ireland sat down next to Snapper Hortman, and talk quickly moved
to their favorite subject -- the Cubs and the possibility that
they were headed to the World Series. The warden said that he
planned to get tickets to the Series in Chicago for himself and
his 15-year old son, assuming the Cubs made it. Hortman replied,
"Warden, if I could see the Cubs play, I'd be ready to
die."

Perhaps you can guess the rest of the story.
The Cubs did, indeed, go to the World Series that year, getting
swept by the mighty Yankees in four straight games. Warden
Ireland attended the last two games in Chicago with his son. And,
humanitarian that he was, arranged for Snapper Hortman, the lifer
who loved the Cubs, to accompany them. The prison chauffeur, an
inmate named Wakefield, drove the trio to Chicago. They stayed
overnight in a north side hotel, all expenses being borne by
Warden Ireland. By all accounts the trip went smoothly and
without incident. We can only imagine Hortman's state of mind as
he sat excitedly in the Friendly Confines of Wrigley Field,
cheering along with thousands of other Cub partisans, drinking in
an experience he could, in his wildest dreams, have never imagined. He saw not
only his beloved Cubs but the Yankee legends of Babe Ruth, Lou
Gehrig, and Tony Lazzeri. In fact, Snapper saw one of the
greatest games in baseball history, Game 3 of the 1932 World
Series, involving the Babe's famous "Called Shot".

Ireland's decision caused a mild uproar at
home. Iowa was about to elect a new governor, and the Democratic
nominee, Clyde Herring, expressed outrage publicly at what he
described as "pampering" criminals, especially during
the depths of the Great Depression. Herring won the election, unseating incumbent Dan Turner. Did Snapper's improbable trip to Wrigley Field have anything to do with it?

Ireland died the following year and Hortman the
year after that. True to his word, he had seen his Cubs. And, in
so doing, he was ready to die.